


Running is for wusses, LEGS ARE FOR KICKING!

by worddumb



Series: Wonderful World Of Blocks and Warts [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Betrayal, Extreme toomfoolery, Gen, Swords, based on online personas, but also not at all, humor?, i have no idea how to tag this, if vibing is playing tag to the death, it's all very dramatic, or smth, they just vibing, this has been sitting in my writing program FOR MONTHS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22532575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worddumb/pseuds/worddumb
Summary: Diamond swords aren't thoThose are for trading for your life... And now you don't have to read the thing, that's all that has happened
Series: Wonderful World Of Blocks and Warts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713742
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	Running is for wusses, LEGS ARE FOR KICKING!

A faint thud echoed through the caves. Their lone inhabitant snapped to attention, furnaces just bright enough to illuminate his and his faces’ panicked flinch.

“Oh no”. 

Alerted to the fact he was no longer quite as lone as he’d like, George scrambled to grab all the iron he oh-so-laboriously collected. If ‘grab’ meant snatch three whole furnaces into his pocket and hope he wasn’t too loud, but that’s just schematics. 

“Oh George!~”

Sickening, mad sweetness dripped off the words, ringing in his ears and bouncing off the cavern walls around him. He froze, momentarily. An adrenalin high smile tagged at his lips despite that, inescapable just like his pursuer. 

Not gracing the words with a response, since the damned if neat echo would give him away and not advantage if he did, George drew the diamond sword he got by sheer luck and maybe some effort. His armor, or what little of it he had at this early stage, made no noise. Practice does make perfect, after all: nipping on his lip, crazed smile gracing his features, George backed away from where the entrance to the caves was with precision. 

“Where are you George!~” 

All he could do was huff, or laugh, or whatever this quiet parody of a whimper was. Yes, very not suspicious. Dream was annoying like that, the petrifying motherf- 

Dreams’ head protruded from the right tunnel. His smile widened, if that was possible. He lunged. 

There was not even a stumble to the pivot and book it George did at that. 

He could barely even hear the clank of armor behind the thudding of his heart. The cave floor was _covered_ in pebbles, so George did the only logical thing. 

Threshed them back. 

His legs were going to kill him if Dream didn’t. 

Jumping down a small steep- “You can’t run George”. 

Of course a steeplechase was not hard enough for Dream, of course he had to exhale a threat into the communicator. Fucker.

“Shut up!” 

Almost falling on a sharp turn, George shoved off the wall it sent him into-

And of course Dream was right. Dead end. George turned around, and there was a sword going for his throat _fast_.

“Stop!” 

His head hit the wall. Nothing else happened. 

“Huh? What’s all this all about?” 

Concern. Blink and you’ll miss it, but George just started peeking through heavily squinted eyes so it was clear behind Dreams’ mocking tone. 

The sword didn’t even prick his neck. 

“Oh, oh I just wanna trade for my life, like a normal person! You know”. 

Thank god Dream was curious. Usually ruthless, well, ruthless even now, a small drop of blood appearing where he applied more pressure with the blade, but curious non the less, or this would’t’ve worked. 

“What can you possibly have, that I would like more than killing you, huh George?-”, he pushed the sword a bit further into George’s throat “-Didn’t think this one through, did ya?” 

With a tight smile, George tried to mash with the wall, inching further away from the metal _sharp_ and _in his skin_ : “My diamond sword?” 

Both glanced down at the weapon in question, still clutched in George’s hand. 

“I can just take it when I kill y-“ 

A knee to the stomach interrupted Dreams’ smartass comment, sweeping the breath out of him. He still managed to block the blow George threw at him. Not inclined to see what else a rib-checked Dream could do, George ran, only a single, manic ‘Ha!’ ringing behind him. 

Rushing up the steep that seemed so small before, a realization struck George. He has had a diamond sword all along. 

In one breath of a word jumble, he summed up all his feelings on the matter. 

“I’m an idiot”. 

His only response was a loud, mocking humph and metallic clinking of armor. 


End file.
